The library of Reflynne loomed before them like a cathedral of knowledge, its white-stone walls rising high with arched windows that gleamed in the morning sun. Inside, the faint scent of old parchment and candle wax filled the air, and the quiet murmur of scholars echoed across the grand hall.
Yoshiya and Omina stepped in, their eyes adjusting to the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. Rows upon rows of shelves stretched before them, filled with tomes that seemed to whisper of forgotten ages.
"Feels like we've stepped into another world," Omina muttered, her voice hushed out of respect for the sanctity of the place.
"Maybe we have," Yoshiya replied, his gaze wandering across the vastness. His fingers itched with anticipation—he had come here for skillbooks, for the secrets of White Mages. But there was a tug in his chest, an odd sense that they might find something more.
A kindly old librarian, draped in deep blue robes, approached with a slow bow. "You must be the new White Mage," he said softly, eyes narrowing in recognition of Yoshiya's insignia. "And your companion, a Combatant yet to choose her path. What is it you seek?"
"Skillbooks, mostly," Yoshiya said with a polite smile. "Something to expand our knowledge."
The librarian nodded. "Follow me."
He led them past towering shelves and quiet study halls until they reached a side chamber filled with specialized tomes. Leather-bound volumes glowed faintly with enchantments, titles etched in gold leaf. Yoshiya's eyes fell instantly on works such as On Advanced Healing Circles and Treatises of Barrier and Sanctuary. Omina drifted to the opposite shelves, scanning manuals on sword styles, archery formations, and the shadows of stealth arts.
Yet, while Yoshiya reached for a tome, something else caught his eye. A tattered book lay half-hidden beneath a pile of ledgers, its leather cracked, its spine nearly broken. Unlike the polished tomes around it, this one seemed forgotten.
"What's this?" he murmured, pulling it free.
The librarian's eyes widened slightly, his demeanor stiffening. "That… is not for casual reading. It belongs to Ostoria's lost chronicles."
"Ostoria?" Omina asked, curiosity sparking in her voice.
The old man hesitated, then sighed as though releasing a burden. "Come. If you are to know, you should see the truth."
He guided them through a locked archway into the restricted archives. The air was colder here, heavy with dust and silence. Shelves sagged beneath the weight of centuries-old scrolls, and cobwebs clung to corners where few dared tread.
On a central table lay a faded map. The librarian unrolled it carefully, and the parchment cracked faintly as it stretched flat. Yoshiya and Omina leaned closer.
"This was once Ostoria," the librarian explained, his voice low, reverent. "A kingdom of nine cities—proud, strong, and radiant."
Nine circles were marked on the map, though only three glowed faintly with magic. Reflynne. Korvath. Orleaf. The rest were dim, faded to near nothing.
"The others…" the librarian whispered. "Six cities lost to history."
One by one, he pointed to them.
Bustleburg – "The trade heart of Ostoria, always alive with markets and energy. It fell to a great ogre horde that razed its caravans and starved the city into ruin."
Giggleburg – "The city of joy, of festivals and laughter. But joy could not stop war. Its walls crumbled, and monsters poured in. They say the laughter died all at once."
Frostholm – "An icy fortress of the north, its people resilient but alone. It vanished under waves of frost trolls and ice wyverns, buried in eternal snow."
Eldoria – "The jewel of golden spires, fountains, and magic. It was betrayed from within and claimed by a rival kingdom. Its beauty was stolen, its legacy erased."
Titanforge – "The forge-city, where indestructible alloys and constructs were born. But the titans they built turned on them. The city destroyed itself in fire and steel."
Luminastra – "The lantern city, radiant and guiding. It was consumed by shadow swarms, its lights extinguished forever."
Omina's hand tightened on the edge of the table, her brow furrowed. "Six gone… and only three remain."
The librarian nodded gravely. "Yes. Reflynne, Korvath, and Orleaf stand as the last pillars of Ostoria. But history teaches us—monsters begin in swarms, then gather into armies. The same pattern we see now."
Yoshiya felt a chill crawl across his skin. Images of the goblin fortress, of swarming hordes and shamans, flickered in his mind. History repeats itself…
His gaze drifted back to the map—and there, faintly, he noticed something odd. A mark half-erased, at the far corner of the parchment. The circle was barely visible, its name scratched out long ago.
"What's this one?" Yoshiya asked, pointing at it.
The librarian stiffened. His lips pressed thin, hesitation clouding his face. At last, he whispered, "The Ninth City. Its name… erased. Some say deliberately. It is written that when the ninth flame is rekindled, Ostoria shall rise… or perish."
Silence weighed heavy in the room. Even Omina, usually quick with words, said nothing.
The librarian closed the map with a decisive motion. "Enough. Some histories are best left forgotten. Take your skillbooks, and leave the rest in the past."
But as Yoshiya followed him out, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, the image of that faint circle burned into his memory. Six cities gone, three left, and one hidden.
Later, as they walked out into the golden afternoon light, Yoshiya carried a tome of advanced White Mage spells. Omina held a combat manual, though her eyes were distant, undecided.
"Yoshiya," she murmured, "if the past is repeating… what happens when the shadows come for the last three cities?"
He had no answer. Only the map in his mind, and the haunting words that refused to leave him:
When the ninth flame is rekindled, Ostoria shall rise… or perish.